“Not as well as I thought I would,” Dino said. “I’m not used to sleeping alone.”

Stone scrambled them some eggs and fried bacon in the microwave. “Was divorce mentioned?”

“No, but death was. Mine.”

“You think she wants out?”

“She was madder than I’ve ever seen her, and that’s saying a lot.”

“You should leave a message about where we’ll be.”

“Where will we be?”

Stone picked up the phone and buzzed his office.

“Good morning,” Joan Robertson, his secretary, said.

“Good morning. I have a couple of things for you to do.”

“Shoot.”

“There’s an inn on the island of Islesboro, in Maine; I think it’s called the Dark Harbor Inn. If it isn’t, find it on the Internet and book four rooms for me, starting tonight. Make it for three nights, but tell them we might need to stay longer.”

“Got it.”

“There’s a will on my desk, witnessed by four people. Please call them all and ask them to confirm that they witnessed the will of Richard Stone.”

“Right.”

“One of the witnesses is a man called Seth Hotchkiss, a family retainer. When you speak to him, ask him about a taxi service on the island and arrange for a cab to meet us at the airstrip on Islesboro at noon today.”

“Got it.”

“Also, find out what county Islesboro is in, call the sheriff, tell him I’m Richard Stone’s executor, and I’d be grateful if the lead investigator on Stone’s death would meet me at his house in Islesboro around one o’clock today.”

“Done.”

“I suppose they have cell-phone service up there, but in any event, I’ll check in with you after we arrive.”

“Okay. I’ll hold the fort.”

Stone hung up and finished his eggs.

“How’s the flying weather?” Dino asked.

“Looks good on TV and the Internet. I’ll get an aviation forecast in a few minutes and file a flight plan.”

THE FOUR OF THEM arrived at Teterboro Airport in New Jersey a little before 10:00 A.M. in Lance’s car. Stone did a preflight inspection of the airplane and got everybody aboard.

Their route took them north to Carmel, then northeast through Connecticut and Massachusetts to Kennebunk, Maine, then direct. Ceiling and visibility were unlimited.

“What kind of airport they got up there?” Dino asked.

“I looked it up in the directory,” Stone replied. “It’s a paved strip of 2,450 feet, with a paved tie-down area. No fuel, no services.”

“Isn’t that kind of short?”

“The airplane can handle it.”

“Can the pilot handle it?”

“Pray that he can.”

Stone pointed out Rockland, as they flew over it during their descent. “That’s a bigger airport that can take jets, for future reference. Islesboro is over there.” He pointed at the long, narrow island ahead of them. “You can just make out the airstrip at the north end.”